


Unsuccessful Success

by SurrealistLetters



Category: UnsuccessfulSuccess
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fantasy, Magic, Mental Health Issues, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-12-21 22:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21063683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SurrealistLetters/pseuds/SurrealistLetters
Summary: Alex had no idea that one day, one action could change someone's life entirely. Everything is not what it seems and the truth is not always obvious.....





	1. The Beginning

"Very well written, Jessica !"

Ugh, here we go again. Ms. Johnson always praises her anytime she does so much as breathe in her classroom. We've all day a teacher that has an obvious favorite and doesn't try to hide it. They just say 'you all should be more like them' or 'if you put in as much effort as they do then' but we all know that it's a lie and they just like that particular person. In their defense, we all have people that we just like for no particular reason.

But, watching Jessica smile and shift triumphantly in her seat still brought out a wave of secret anger and annoyance that comes from some mysterious place within me. As Ms. Johnson passed back our graded essays, you can always tell who got a decent grade and who didn't based on if she looked at you as she placed the stapled pieces of paper on their desks. The anger slowly got replaced with more and more anxiety as she wound around the room. Her purple floral button-down and matching purple skirt are like an eerie cloud of despair that looms closer and closer.

As she makes it to my row the pit in my stomach was only being held back by my thoughts trying to tell myself 'it's okay' and 'even if you didn't do well, it's not the end of the world' followed by 'there are worse things that could happen than making a poor grade on a paper.' Then, she places down my paper, without looking at me and quickly moves on to the next student. That pit then overwhelms me as I flip the paper over and instead of seeing a grade I see 'see me after class' written in red ink at the top of the first page.

As I raise my hand to ask to use the bathroom, the feeling of sickness and dread bubble up more and more in my throat and I just barely throw the stall door open before I lose control before the overwhelming feelings take over me. This is the part that I hate the most. The part where I feel the most betrayed-and it's by my own body. No matter how much I try to calm myself down or how many of those stupid breathing technics I try, I can never just deal with things like everyone else can. Maybe I'm just broken or have some type of dysphoria that has my brain tell my body to freak out at every minor inconvenience or set back that happens.

I stop only when I have nothing left in my stomach for that pit to purge from my body. Then I wipe my mouth with the 1-ply toilet paper that the school gives us and flush. Heading to the sink I look in the mirror and see the broken shell staring back at me. I don't know how I got to this stage but, now that I'm here, I can't help but find comfort in the feeling of an empty stomach and tears falling from my eyes. With that thought, I brush my hair behind my ear and splash some water on my face. 

Afterward, I dry off and head back to class as if nothing happened. I sit back down in my seat and ruffle through my bookbag for the tin container of Altoids that I know is in there specifically for this reason. I pop two into my mouth as I turn back in my seat and face the board where Ms. Johnson is writing examples of run-on sentences.

Now, I know what you're thinking. 'Oh, this is going to be one of those stories where the quiet student with anxiety meets someone who teaches them to love themselves and how to open up to people while sticking it to the teacher who thought that they weren't good enough.' Well, good news ! This isn't one of those stories. This is one of those stories where the outcast will always remain an outcast and the teacher who thinks that they aren't good enough goes on thinking that way.

My name is Alex Viribus and this is a real story where actions have very real consequences.


	2. Shadow

My name is Alex and this is a real story where actions have very real consequences.

Hi, I'm Alex Viribus. I'm your typical high school outcast, wallflower, background noise, whatever it is that you would call me. I prefer the word shadow, though. Everyone has one but never notices it except at rare times. Most people might find that description saddening but I find comfort in it, it makes me feel like this empty void within me is supposed to be there and like I'm not alone in feeling this way. But, hey, that's just my opinion. Moving on !

I'm a Sophmore at Rainwood High. No, I do not like it here. I'm really not a school kind of person. Most days I just quietly pass by the people in the hallways heading from class to class with my earbuds in playing my music just loud enough so that I don't have to hear anyone. Lunch is my favorite time of day-or it used to be. I would always eat lunch in my old, grandma-style car with my best friend Trevor Perdita. We have known each other ever since we first got paired together for a project by our third-grade teacher. We were "shy" as she put it, really we just didn't like to talk to other people, so she thought it would be a good idea for us both to make friends. I hated it the moment she made me walk over to him at the other side of the classroom but, from the moment he commented on my Star Wars lunch box, all of that faded away and I knew that I had found someone who actually understands me. 

But, last week Trevor suddenly transferred schools. I was really confused when he didn't show up to school that Wednesday until I got home and my parents explained it to me. Trevor's dad and my mom have been friends since high school so he called her to let her know so she could explain it to me. Our talk ended with my dad handing me the note that Trevor had left me explaining why he didn't tell me. 

I couldn't look you in the eyes and tell you that I was wasn't going to see you. You are my best friend and nothing is ever going to change that. I'm not leaving you. I'm leaving this awful school and all of the people that never bothered to see me even when I was right in front of them. I have thought about this for a while and did some research and decided that this is what I wanted to do. I don't expect you to accept my decision but I think that you, more than anyone, will be able to understand my decision. Though it hasn't happened yet at the time I am writing this, I know that I am happier and more at ease now. From what I hear about this school, it is beautiful and so so peaceful. I know that I will really be able to be myself and not feel like an outcast there. I'm sorry for making the only part of your day that is good into a time where you will miss me, but I know that you will move on and find another shadow to relate to. See you again someday, Trevor.........

That night I cried myself to sleep while clutching that letter. I couldn't believe he would leave me like this, without a warning. Anger and sadness swirled around me that whole night. I cried so much that I stopped noticing the tears that would randomly fall whenever I got up to get a glass of water or use the bathroom. The only time I was able to tell was when I turned back to the screen of my laptop where I was numbly watching Netflix because my vision was slightly blurred. But, the warmth of the multiple blankets on my bed gave me a sense of dull comfort that I could cuddle into with the sound of The Office playing in the background.

My parents were worried about me, I could tell, but that night they decided to leave me to myself. I felt like I had just lost my best friend, even if I didn't really, and they knew that. I also felt bad for them to have to see me, their only child, broken like this. I bet you're thinking wow, dramatic much ? But, Trevor was the only thing that helped get me through the school day. Whenever the anxiety got to be too much or the voice inside my head saying 'why are you even here' got to be a little too loud, he was my escape. It's honestly amazing how much of an effect one person can have on you. How they can make that emptiness inside of us feel just a little bit smaller when they are around.

With that being said, can you blame me for emptying my stomach after failing my last big test of the semester ? I am now without my security blanket in the shape of a tall, skinny dude with hair that's just barely long enough to pull back with a hairbow. Trevor had fallen in love with the whole long hair/man bun style that had been going on a few years ago and has never let it go since then. He loved to pull his hair back so that he could read is comic books more easily as he sat underneath the big dogwood tree outside of the school during his free period. And, of course, that tree just had to be outside of the classroom window that I have at the same time.

When I returned to my seat from the bathroom, I stared out the window at that very same dogwood while my teacher went on about dependent clauses at the front. I've always liked dogwoods ever since I saw them at my elementary school as a kid. I don't have a very good sense of smell so that never bothered me. The way that the petals fell like cherry blossom trees just hypnotized me even at a young age. I can't help the smile that comes onto my face while thinking back to that blissfully ignorant childhood mindset where everything is amazing and anything is possible. Sometimes, I really wish that I could go back to having that mindset. Not having this looming feeling in your stomach when things are going right because there is just no way that things are going that right without there being a catch. The bubbling nervousness that flips your stomach inside-out and the adrenalin rushing through your whole body as it prepares for the worst possible outcome. I don't know how most people are able to just deal with it so easily, it's like they don't even feel any of this ! How unfair is that ? Why can I not control my thoughts like they can ? Why do I overthink things to the point of my hands and heart shaking from all of the adrenalin of my fight or flight reflex kicking in ? Why- IIIIIIIRRRRRRREEEEEEE

Ugh, that stupid sound for a bell is so annoying, but that sound also means that it's now time for lunch. So, no more asking why and more sulking in my car while I eat lunch alone and thinking about what Trevor might be doing right now. I'm the type of person that likes to like vicariously through others, though Mr. Shall says that I'm just daydreaming and need to "cut it out" and "come back to the real world" so that I can "actually focus and pay attention" so that I can "maybe make something" of myself one day. But, as munch on my Doritos and look out across the student parking lot, I don't understand why don't more people daydream. I mean, this is a small town with nothing much to do even if you aren't a social outcast like me. Who wants to be stuck in their boring everyday lives without imagining that it could be more sometimes ? Or maybe imagining that your life is better than it actually is. 

That's where I'm at right now. Trevor used to tell me that one day he would go somewhere where there is no judgment from people, where he would be able to relax and read all day long, a place that made him feel not only accepted but special. And since this is the first promise that he has ever broken, I'm guessing that this is the reason. He had found that special place that made him feel wonderfully unique. That's the only reason that he would ever leave me here-alone. And, with that being the case, I wish to join him. Hopefully, I will one day soon.

But for now, or for today at least, I'm stuck here. Maybe tomorrow I'll ask Trevor's dad how he did it, how he got into such an amazing place that seems like it was built just for him, and how he felt about him being gone. Does he miss him a whole lot ? Does he think Trevor made the right decision ? Maybe I'll ask if I can see his room and try to find something about this school and how I can possibly go there too. Yep, that's what I'll do. 

New mission- Find a way to attend this school


	3. Darkness

New mission- Find a way to attend this school

Now, this isn't some Nancy Drew mystery novel where I happen to find the location or the acceptance letter that Trevor got and magically attend his new school with him. In fact, it's quite the opposite. 

As I walked up to the plain, white wooden door of Trevor's house, I didn't have an exact plan laid out that I was going to follow. I just wanted to be in a place that reminded me of my best friend. And I got just what I asked for but not in the way I wanted it. When Trevor's dad answered the door, that pit in my stomach grew just a bit bigger. 

"Hey, Mr. Perdita," I said as he opened the door.

"Oh, Alex, hi. How are you?" he asked. He looked tired and had slight bags under his eyes but he still tried his best to put on a smile for me. The clothes he wore were all wrinkled as if they had been slept in. It looks like he was missing Trevor just as much as I was. 

"I'm good. I actually just came by to see Trevor's room, if you don't mind."

He paused and the smile on his face got a little deeper as if he knew how hard it had been on me not having Trevor around these last few days. "Of course. Come in, you know where it's at. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

I said a quiet thank you as I passed him while entering the house. Trevor's house was small but cozy. As soon as you walked in you could see the living room to the right with a single brown couch and a tv across from it on the other side of the room. The dark green carpet was something that I always loved because it was so soft and cushiony that I had fallen asleep in front of the tv many times while trying to get through whatever movie marathon Trevor had planned for us that night.

I took a long look at our favorite spot in front of the couch, where we would always choose to sit instead of actually on the couch itself, and then headed to the left towards the kitchen. Mr. Perdita was already at the counter making himself a peanut butter sandwich and one for me. Every time I came over to their house after school, from elementary school to now, Mr. Perdita would make all of us a peanut butter sandwich to eat as an afternoon snack. A smooth peanut butter sandwich for him and crunchy peanut butter sandwiches for me and Trevor. He would ask us how our days were, what plans we had set for later on in the week, whose house we were going to be staying at this weekend- he never uninterested in what we had to say.

Mr. Perdita placed the plate with my sandwich in front of me, "it's so odd to not make three sandwiches anymore...." I think he was saying that more to himself than me so I just thanked him once more and headed straight for Trevor's bedroom.

It looked exactly the same- I don't know why I thought it would look totally different. Trevor is staying in a dorm on campus so, of course, he couldn't take all of his stuff with him. Plus, his aunt was only an hour away if he needed anything. I know, I know. "An hour? that seems pretty far away to me!" But, that's a lot closer than the rest of us are to him. The school is a 10-hour drive from here. So, yeah, that is close when you compare it like that.

The walls in Trevor's room were a navy blue color with black and grey sheets and pillows to compliment them. The floor was wooden, not that you could usually tell by the number of clothes that practically lived on it most of the time. I used to joke with him that an animal could live in his room and he would never know it. I guess his mom told him to clean before he left because there were no clothes. There was no trash, no empty bottles lying around. It's honestly kind of weird to see his room like this, even when I came over Trevor never cleaned. "You've seen my room at its worst so why bother cleaning it now?" he would say anytime I commented on it. His bed and his desk were the only two things that were ever kept clean. "I need to go to bed with a clear mind and work in a clean space" was his motto.

I walked over and grabbed one of the fluffy black pillows and sat down on the edge of the bed. I don't know why I thought coming here was going to help anything. Sitting here while looking around and remembering all of the things we used to do and the things we would talk about, it just made me miss him even more. I saw the picture of us that he keeps on his desk, it's from Halloween a few years ago with us both dressed up and covered in pumpkin guts from a particularly intense pumpkin carving contest. It was one of the best memories that I have of us together, it was the happiest I had been in a long time. 

I didn't even realize that I was crying until I felt the tears run over my chin and down my neck. I can't believe that he would just leave me here like this, with no one to go to. The pit in my stomach sank deeper while the lump in my throat rose. I just clutched the pillow closer to my chest and let myself break down and feel the pain of being left alone by my best friend sink in for the first time. Trevor is my best friend so I can't hate him for this, not when he is so much better off where he is now, but that doesn't mean that I can stop the pain of it all from reaching me and pulling me into the darkness a tearful sleep on his bed while the thoughts raced around my head continuously. 

Sometimes, the darkness is my only friend and the only thing that pulls me to join it.


End file.
